Streets of Christmas
by Ghibli
Summary: Christmas is approaching fast, and shopping can be an evil experience. But not for Grissom and Sara.


**Title:** _Streets of Christmas._  
**Summary:** Christmas is approaching fast, and shopping is a nightmare. But not for Grissom and Sara.  
**Disclaimer**: Santa Baby, hurry down the chimney tonight… and please bring me the contract which gives me the claim to CSI. Oh, and I don't own the rights to the two songs mentioned here either.  
**A/N**: A thank you goes to Mossley for looking over this ficlet.

_**Streets of Christmas **_

"I wouldn't go there if I were you."

She halted her trek towards the popular chocolatier store and frowned slightly. "And why shouldn't I?" She looked at him curiously, awaiting an answer.

His arm slipped around her waist again, steering her towards a smaller, and quieter, candy store. "Because their products are nowhere near as good as the ones sold here."

The scent of cinnamon and chocolate, coffee and mint tickled their senses as they opened the door, and they took an extra whiff, unconsciously trying to separate the different ingredients. Shelves and tables were dotted around the store, each filled with enticing displays of gingerbread houses, chocolate reindeers and assorted gifts in a variety of colours, shapes and tastes.

"What is it with those weeks before Christmas and nostalgia?" Sara picked up small cellophane bag filled with a holiday-special tea blend. "It's not like we magically regain our memories of days gone by. We just end up romanticising them, painting them in a better light than they should be. Not that I never do that; some of my best memories are Christmas ones. It's just that... Never mind, I'm overtalking again."

"Tell me about them."

Her gaze shot to that of her companion's, and upon seeing his inquisitive gaze, a smile blossomed on her face. Her eyes began to sparkle as she told of days filled with laughter and security. "Christmas 1990, Harvard. Candy, alcohol and mistletoe make for some interesting occasions. Linda, my roommate...." As they investigated the delicacies in more detail, Grissom absorbed her tales of college trips, of visiting her (former) foster parents who had the most energetic husky, of wading through piles of snow, accurately throwing back a snowball at a youngster as she quickly searched for a last minute present.

As they stepped back into the bustling avenue, several gifts richer and dollars poorer, his voice was animated as he, too, regaled her with his Christmas memories. "When I was twelve..."

Ambling along, they passed various window displays, most of which were in a state of constant activity. Tiny flickering white and blue lamps, gold and purple ornaments that twirled slightly because of the heating and air conditioners. The floors, where the proudly displayed goods were laid out luring (un)suspecting customers, were in some case dotted with fake icicles and snowmen, trying to mimic an artificial winter wonderland. Tiny patches of fog that had slowly come over parts of the city blanketed the harshness of some decorations, enfolding them in a patchwork of pale grey cotton wisps. His arm had nestled itself once again around her waist, and she leaned in slightly, savouring his warmth and security. Her arm was also around his waist, and her hand was firmly tucked into his jacket's pocket, keeping it comfortably  
warm.

The houses and apartments that were sprinkled around the shopping street also contributed their fair share to the holiday scene. Christmas wreaths were hung on shimmery lacquered doors and elaborate balconies, the strings of lights were intricately woven through hedges or framing windows. She inwardly shook her head; Vegas didn't really need any more lighted features. The town already bathed in a neon glow for years on end. Yet, she couldn't help but appreciate the different decorations, each habitant trying to bring a little bit of the clichéd Christmas cheer to their home. And, she acquiesced, it did make things cosier, less harsh. She thought of her own little apartment with the silver and burgundy holly wreath on her door and the little tree that proudly stood in front of the main window.

And the small selection of gifts gathered underneath it.

There were no huge, outlandish presents. Nothing that could tip Santa's sleigh or drain her account. But they were personal, bought with her heart, and sense of humour. There was a cowboy hat stuffed with a few beer cans and a voucher for Nick's favourite diner. Three poinsettia/Christmas stars, ruby, white and rose, set in an authentic aboriginal-style pot for David and his fiancée, the rose plant representing the symbiosis of relationship. Sara stifled a smile and snuggled her hand even closer in Grisson's jacket, giving him a quick peck on the cheek as she remembered Grissom's comment, and subsequent kiss, when she'd explained the symbolism behind David's present. That, too, was a Christmas memory she would cherish.

They wandered around a bit longer, sipping the customary hot chocolate while taking a short break to watch a children's choir perform a pitch-perfect rendition of Happy Christmas (War is Over.) Straddling the bench of one of the wooden picnic tables that had been set up around the little booth, Grissom pulled Sara closer to him, enjoying their continued closeness. While in public, and thus in danger of being noticed by a possible passing colleague, his rational mind didn't speak up. Instead, it remained conspicuously quiet, seemingly savouring the comfort and happiness which Grissom had found this Friday evening.

Hard to believe that only a few weeks ago, their relationship had been civil, at most. A relationship in a professional capacity had been the only thing that either of them seemed capable off. And even that was bare. Fear had paralysed one person, and the other was burnt once too often to put her heart on the line again.

Now, with her back pressed against his chest, and her temple nestled in his shoulder, Sara couldn't suppress a smile. For the first time in a long while she realized that she was content. Happy, even. _'Wow, how mushy can I get?' _As the children started to sway on the tunes of Mud's 'Merry Christmas Ev'rybody', Sara gave her head a quick shake and turned around slightly, peering up at Grissom. "Wanna go home?"

A bit more than half an hour later, Sara sank down on her couch gratefully, rubbing her tired feet. A steaming cup of tea appeared on the table in front of her, and she leaned forward, tucking her feet under her legs. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. We should do this again in the future."

With only her eyes betraying her slight bewilderment, she brought the mug of tea back to her lips. "Do what again? Shop? I never pegged you for the shopping type, Gris."

"Observing the chaotic Christmas madness was enjoyable, but I wasn't particularly talking about the shopping, Sara." A slight pause fell as he thought of how to put his thoughts into words. "I was thinking more along the lines of how much I would love to spend future Christmases with you. And New Years'."

Sara was glad she had refrained from taking a sip when Grissom started to speak. Otherwise, there would have been an embarrassing scene involving spilt tea and a sputtering and coughing Sara. As it were, all she was able to do was stare at him in shock, before breaking out in a huge smile and saying the only word she was capable of at the moment. "Deal!"

With that he sat back and smiled.


End file.
